


The Chickadee and The Crow

by heliodor



Series: Caladrius Suite [Concept Mercy AU] [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Concept Mercy AU, Flirting, Injury Recovery, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 15:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliodor/pseuds/heliodor
Summary: McCree flirts with Dr. Ziegler from his hospital bed.





	The Chickadee and The Crow

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering I've been putting Angela in the relationship tags to try to make these a little easier to find. Feel kind of weird about it because these aren't genderswap really but what can you do?
> 
> [[Click here to read my fake bio for this Concept Mercy](https://heliodorwrites.tumblr.com/post/166449854913/mercy-concept-bio)]

“Leave him alone, McCree,” Reyes had barked when they were first introduced. “He’s off limits.”

Of course McCree had to take that as a challenge. Wasn’t often he could let loose a little and show he couldn’t be tamed. He didn’t want to put people in danger; he just needed them to know he was wily as a coyote, mean as a rattlesnake. Playful as a crow.

McCree had sidled on up to Dr. Ziegler and whispered a few sweet nothings that earned him a flustered expression from the good doctor and a disappointed glare from Reyes. If the boss hadn’t wanted him to keep doing it he shouldn’t have reacted, McCree figured. Ziegler hadn’t told him to stop either. That was as good a sign as any that the doctor didn’t really mind, so McCree kept up the flirting every time they met, truly meaning it a little more every time they spoke.

McCree woke up in the infirmary with a start, turning his aching head to the side to see Dr. Ziegler’s broad hand on his shoulder. “Am I in heaven?”

“McCree, please. Now is not the time.” Dr. Ziegler quickly pulled his hand back. 

“‘Cause I’m seeing angels,” McCree finished the punchline anyway. “What brings a vision of loveliness like yourself to a such a sinner’s bedside?”

Dr. Ziegler looked carefully into his face. “I think you’re are out of danger, but your eyes look a little unfocused. I don’t like that. Can you tell me your name and where you are?”

McCree started to sit up and stopped immediately when his other aches and pains made their complaints. “Agent Jesse McCree. I reckon I’m at Gibraltar unless somebody had me shipped out to a farther base. All these sick rooms start lookin’ the same after awhile if you know what I mean. Is that enough or do you need my ID numbers, sir? My star sign? My favorite color?”

“No, that’s fine I—” Ziegler started.

“It’s your eyes by the way.” McCree cut him off with a wink.

Dr. Ziegler stared at him blankly.

“My favorite color, I mean,” McCree clarified. Not his smoothest, but he could be forgiven as he did likely have a concussion.

“How are your pain levels?” Dr. Ziegler barreled right on ahead. God, it was adorable the way he set his jaw and held up his tablet to take notes all prim and proper. “Rate them for me on a scale of one to ten, please.”

“Is ten the lowest or the highest?” McCree pretended to consider it seriously.

“Highest,” Dr. Ziegler said and started on some medical mumbo jumbo about dosages and not wanting side effects that McCree didn’t really care about. He listened to the rise and fall of the doctor’s smooth voice instead like rolling hills experienced the right way from on a train to nowhere in particular.

“You’re the only ten I need, Doc,” McCree slurred. “Wait, I fucked that up. I mean you’re the only ten I see… Ah hell. You catch my drift.”

The bed shifted as Dr. Ziegler sat delicately on the edge of the mattress to gently cup McCree’s cheek in one cold hand. “Jesse, could you take me seriously for once in your life? You’ve suffered multiple contusions, bruised ribs, a concussion, and you managed to get yourself shot on top of everything. I’m worried about you! You can’t keep brushing me off like this every time you get hurt. I’m sure it’s funny that I’m a gay man who dresses like an angel out on the battlefield. I know you boys talk about how I can’t shoot straight, but please. Put aside your amusement for one moment and let me take care of you.”

“Oh no, darlin’,” McCree put his hand over Dr. Ziegler’s when the man let out a disgusted huff and carefully started to stand so as not to jostle him. “Chickadee. Angelo, I meant every word.”

Dr. Ziegler pulled his hand away and crossed his arms.

“Well… Maybe not every word but enough of them for it to count. I never meant—” McCree sighed and stared at the ceiling. He let his face go serious for this because Ziegler needed it, and he couldn’t look at the doctor without smiling. “I never meant to give you the impression I was belittling you in any way, Doc. Let me come clean and say trying to get under your skin has been somewhat of a game of mine, but I never meant it as an insult. I always trust you’ll keep me patched up. You’re the best of the best after all. Real handsome to boot. Who wouldn’t want to tell you how pretty you are?

“I don’t know what to say to that.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just tell me to stop if I’m making you uncomfortable.” McCree took a steadying breath and looked Dr. Ziegler out of the corner of his eyes. Now would be the perfect time to pull the brim of his hat down low to hide. Wait a minute…

His hat!

McCree made an aborted attempt to sit straight up and felt something pull at his side. 

“Jesse!” Dr. Ziegler jumped up and flapped his hands at McCree helplessly. “What are you doing?!”

“My hat,” McCree groaned. “Tell me she ain’t lost for good? I’d just broken that one in how I like it.”

Dr. Ziegler checked McCree over with a gentle but clinical touch. He looked under the blanket at McCree’s bandages, and when he was satisfied everything was in place as much as it could be under the circumstances, he helped McCree to settle back down into a comfortable position.

“Your hat is fine.” Dr. Ziegler walked around the bed to the other side and pulled said hat off a side table from behind a truly horrific flower arrangement McCree had somehow not noticed before. The thing had to have been made so garish on purpose. Good God. Had to be from the boss. Reyes was the only man with the critical eye to choose such an well engineered assault on the senses.

“You keep it for me,” McCree said, smiling when Dr. Ziegler awkwardly held it in front of his chest like a kid about to apologize to his mother.

“Very well,” Dr. Ziegler said. He moved to turn down the lights so McCree could rest again. “I can’t promise Genji won’t steal it.”

“Ah well, we all know that man does as he pleases. Ornery bastard.” McCree chuckled to himself, only noticing Dr. Ziegler was leaving when he was halfway out the door. “Whoa there! Wait just a second! Are you leaving me without saying goodbye, Chickadee? Here I lie mortally wounded only for the sweetest angel to come out of heaven to deliver the final blow. Straight to my heart.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Dr. Ziegler said, but he returned to McCree’s side anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I thought we were having a moment. I won’t sleep until I knew we’re all square, Doc. We good?” McCree squinted up at Dr. Ziegler.

“Don’t change yourself for me, McCree,” Dr. Ziegler answered cryptically. He hovered for a moment before stepping closer. “I’m sorry. This is unethical.”

“What—” All the breath left McCree’s lungs when Dr. Ziegler bent to place the most feather light kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. Ziegler said more firmly. “We’ll talk when your head is back on straight, cowboy.”

“Lucky for you my head is never— Hey! Where are you going, sweetheart?” McCree laughed when the door to his room clicked shut.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to do a few more of these short little character studies and maybe a longer fic with plot but we'll see what happens.


End file.
